The Russet Rouge
by TheSaiyajinFlame
Summary: Corruption of Champions. Your first love making encounter with the Russet Rouge. A sly red fox who has his eyes set on you. Set in place of a half-dead rose guardian on the roof top of the Orphanage. Requested to put here. Complain if you want. No skin off my nose.


You drift into Raphael as easily as you would into a pillow. The young thief leans in over you and begins to devour you softly with gentle tongue and nimble hands. You are all to eager to reciprocate and let him pass through your mouth and across your back. You try to wrestle him for control over your tangled tongues, but it turns all to quickly into a metaphor for his swordplay. All your twirls and wriggles are met by sensuous swirls across areas of your tongue you never even knew you had. Raphael has instantly turned it into an major erogenous zone. You give up, but once again the fox does not relent. He keeps lashing your tongue until you're forced to writhe limply to the rhythm. When you attempt to imagine what would happen, were he to do the same to your already throbbing bitch-clit, your knees shudder. When Raphael, just faintly, places his paws on the sides of your spine in just the right way, you nearly climax. You fall into his waiting hand and he catches you by the neck and lower back. You're enveloped in a soft sea of groping warmness. His playful growls carry further into your body than they should. He moves you back, further into the garden. Just before you hit a rose entwined lattice, Raphael takes hold of you and lifts you up, pinning you squarely against it at mid-height. Slightly startled by the gesture, you spread your arms to find a grip, but discover it to be easy, up against the plants. The lattice is indeed rotten to the core, and it crumbles at your touch. The thick, stubborn rosebushes, however, manage to hold your weight. You quickly find two branches to grasp and your posterior finds a nook to sit upon. Your legs you wrap around the fox's hips, as the rogue smiles at you with admiration and zeal. There's a brief moment of vulnerability, as he finds an opening into your pants. As sure as a master thief would find his way into the vault of a city, he quickly opens it. The thorns at your back do bite while you hang limply between trunk and fox with your privates exposed mid air, but you are soon relieved of your awkward neglect when Raphael tilts his hips and drives deep a much larger implement. Finally the embrace is whole again as you can feel his pelvis thump in against your netherlips. His bone-hard length has already breached you. There's something to be said for his slender and agile size, still clearly felt bottoming inside you. You're never left waiting for too long. You quickly settle into the distinctive rhythm, staring Mr. Fox into his eyes with a daring look. You're willing to suffer the discomfort of the thorns to discover just how good he is now that you're in it for the duration. You arch your back into the bushes, help to ease him into your passage and feel like the first of Spring's roses held proudly aloft by the gifted gardener. While Raphael might indeed not be the most endowed lover, he is very skilled. The wicked fox keeps eye contact, often grinning and snarling at you as in an attempt to keep you aware of just what predicament you're in. He whispers you little words in an indecipherable language, running his paws across your incredibly tight, perky derriere or girly hips. Whatever he does bring to bear, he does well. You begin to notice how his smooth tip nudges repeatedly into your cervix, massaging you deep from within. Then you begin to notice how his pelvic bone and the soft fur on top, rubs into your petite clitty at just the right angle. The sensations are seperate at first, but Raphael keeps the steady rhythm steady enough to concentrate. When you finally manage to focus, truly enjoy them both, it's like a subtle spark that grows into a relentless bolt of energy. The pleasurable pinch at your cervix, always followed by the nod on your clitoris. It builds. Finally, you beg of him to stop as the growing crescendo and steady rhythm becomes too much, not by pulling out, but by jamming into you one last time and simply keeping his wonderful cock in the magic spot for long enough to ride the sensation to a climax.


End file.
